


Sherlock in Love With

by Straj



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straj/pseuds/Straj
Summary: After Sherlock wrote fanfiction - as much as four pieces - he decided to understand what this thing is - "SLASH"? And according to his custom, set up an experiment. And what came of it.





	

Mick met with John about the tower of London. The voice of Mick`s John`s seemed more anxious than before.  
— What happened? — asked Mick, leaning on the curb. It was cold. Mick was in combat boots, black jeans, black jacket and hat. John was a warm shoes, brown jacket and grey jeans.  
— You know, Mick, - began John, - I think Sherlock... - he sniffed, looked around hurriedly and in a low whisper added, - he's in love.  
— Yes you that? - was amazed Mick, - is it true?!  
\- Yes, - John dejectedly looked at Mick`s, - he was so absent-minded. Walks around the house smiling what is unknown, humming. And... Sherl's cleaning the apartment... once a week...  
\- But... who is he? — asked Mick, — you don't ask?  
— No idea — sadly replied John, - he was so bright. It is, of course, to me was always more kind than the rest, but now... can You imagine Andersen did compliment...  
\- Yes, - Mick stared at is interesting. - Maybe Sherlock finally realized that people are not bad? Look, John! But let's conduct our own investigation and find out who is Sherlock in love?  
\- Are you sure? — with out a doubt handed it to John, — he makes us?  
— If he's so in love, as you say, he will not even notice it, - grinned Mick, — you live with him, in the same house, so you — personal observation. Write down everything that Sherlock does not fit... and I will be for him on the street to watch. Where went, where I went, what I bought, who talked...  
— Well, — suddenly smiled at John, - good idea. And we can figure out who is the subject of the tender affections of Sherlock?!  
— Don't tell me he was still writing poetry started? - smiled Mick.-  
\- I think so...  
— Yes... — said Mick, — things are worse than I thought. To read what he writes?  
— I'll try to send it, - promised John, - okay I went to conduct surveillance.  
— Yet, — and Mick went to walk further.

***

At the end of the week they met again.  
\- How is it? — asked Mick, - John, managed to learn something?  
\- No, - John looked at Mick`s, - here's my observation, — and handed Mick`s a notebook.  
— But mine, - Mick gave John a stack of photos.  
\- Today Sherlock, judging by your photos morning, bought tea. How you did that?  
\- Yes, - said Mick, - took a green packet with slices of strawberry and the second black with the rose petals... I was on the bike for him to ride and take pictures. Took Ben on his motorbike, my noticeable...  
\- He's literally hooked on tea, - complained John, - he prepares his seventy ways, and I check it.  
\- Interesting, - Mick went through the photos, — and after tea he went to the pastry shop and ordered a cake there. And bought some Goodies.  
— Well, about Goodies, I know, - muttered John to blame, — and where is he now?  
— Now he comes in the house Benedict Cumberbatch.  
— What's he doing there?  
— I don't know... what do you think, John, how is he going to last?  
— For a long time, - John reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a few crumpled pieces of paper, — here, I promised you.

Mick picked up the paper, make the most of it straightened, and began to read. A few minutes later, Mick lifted his head from the paper and smiled.  
— He has a peculiar sense of beauty, - and read, — "So sweet the pain that causes the heart muscle to beat. And need the muscle of the oral cavity to connect..."  
— What's he mean?  
— I think Sherlock was the fact that his heart hurts and he wants someone to kiss. If that's the case, then, Sherlock, or has not admitted, or admitted, but the object of his adoration turned a deaf ear to all his confession...  
\- What if his unknown love doesn't love him?  
— Then Sherlock was sad and sad. Let's see what else he wrote... - Mick again stared at the crumpled pieces of paper, — "...and the flutter of the muscles is so sweet, pain so close, that closes the mind Palace... and the reduction of the transverse muscles strikes fear... and blood boil, as if the liquid in the flask under the flame of the burner Bunsen..." Bah, he's a philosopher, it turns out, - Mick's carefully laid this precious paper and put it away, — okay, I'm going to follow him.  
— I'll call you if that, — John said goodbye to Mick and went home.

***

The evening of the same day, and it was a Saturday John called Greg.  
John sat in the living room and was chatting with Mick about the atypical behavior of Sherlock, which is at this moment washing the floor on the stairs.  
And then called Lestrade.  
— Yes?

— Is that you? What happened?

— That my help? And Sherlock?

— Well, well. Say, atypical behavior of the body?!

\- He... ran away from you? Okay, okay. I will now, - John turned off the laptop, cell phone, dressed, shod, and went downstairs.  
Sherlock was cleaning the hallway, something fun whistling.  
— Sherl, - said John, - for dinner, don't wait up. I called Greg, told them the headless corpse ran away. And he asks for help from me personally.  
— Well, John, - smiled Sherlock, - I'll make the bed and leave food in the kitchen, so that when you come back, you would have to eat and go to bed.  
\- Thank you, - stammered completely bewildered John and went outside.

An hour later the door of the house 221 b is tapped. Sherlock opened. On the threshold stood Mick.  
— What happened? — asked Mick.  
\- I made a delicious tea, - smiled Sherlock.  
\- Is that all?  
— Bought cake...  
\- You're scaring me, — said Mick, — I thought the terrorists are coming, and rushed. And now, you have a home mood.  
— Come in, — the host let the guest, - drink tea, eat snacks.  
— Good idea, — Mick began to take off my shoes — you know... swept the floor?  
— Yes, and cleaned all...  
— You're exactly crazy, - is concerned about Mick, - maybe you need to talk?  
— To talk about? Yes, - Sherlock frowned and looked at Mick`s, - go upstairs and make yourself comfortable. I am now.

They were sitting in the living room, drinking tea with a drop of Jamaican rum, ate cake and... silent. Mick was all in black and Sherlock in a purple shirt and black jeans.  
Finally Sherlock broke the silence.  
— Mick, — he said, - I have a proposition for you.  
— What? - said Mick.  
\- I want something to read.  
— Read.

— I heart stars saw,  
When your love has known.  
When I realized that love  
Like a flame blazing up the blood.  
And I fell in love... in my eyes,  
In hands, fingers, body.  
Look at it all timidly.  
I want to touch, to press to itself.  
And then the world will never give.  
Want the muscles of the heart muscle  
Your heart muscle is merged  
One. And fought  
It is only in unison  
Thy soul and thoughts.

\- Golly, - exclaimed Mick.  
— Did you like it? - Sherlock was confused, - I couldn't find the words... They are so different...  
\- This is always so, — Mick smiled encouragingly, - who is the lucky girl that you dedicated this poem?  
\- I understand, - Sherlock began with increased attention to explore the floor, — in fact... how would you say...  
— Let's give birth faster...  
— I dedicated these verses, - Sherlock looked up sharply, - you...  
— WHAT?! - Mick stared in amazement at each other. — WHAT?  
— I'm in love with you......  
— Are you sure?  
\- Yeah.  
— Let me call an ambulance, - Mick tried to escape but couldn't.

Sherlock caught up with him at the door, gently pinned to the wall and began to speak:  
\- I really love you, Mick. But I don't want you to bring some kind of unimaginable suffering and grief. But, you know, I want to understand. All my readers teasing me "slash"... I do not understand.  
— And why not John?! — howled Mick, - I know that they want to read about you and John. So come on.  
— No. John is predictable. And you don't.  
\- Yeah. Now you're with me, then write fanfic, and everyone will be happy except me.  
\- No, - Sherlock pulled back and put his hands on the shoulders of Mick`s, — one that. I just wanted to touch you... to kiss... to caress...  
\- Did you ask me? No, - Mick abruptly dropped his hands from her shoulders, - I don't want to. You're my friend. And our relationship is beyond not have to go out.  
— But I... - said Sherlock, - not going to go beyond. Only that you let me...  
\- What if I don't allow?  
\- Okay, - Sherlock backtracked, - then went tea to drink.

The boys sat and drank tea. Mick seemed whipped, naturally after this stunning news, and Sherlock sank into melancholy and sadness.  
\- Oh, you idiot, — said Mick, — what you wanted to do?  
— Hug, - murmured Sherlock in a voice full of regret and sorrow.  
\- Is that all? - Mick's been a terrible bore.  
\- ... and snuggle up to you...  
\- You are cunning.  
— I'm a man, — heralded Sherlock unspeakably sad voice, - you don't love me...  
— I didn't say that, - said Mick, — I'm just saying that I do not like.  
— Why can't I hug you?  
— Let me hug you will, — Mick looked at Sherlock, - but no more...

Sherlock walked around the coffee table, and sat next to Mick and shyly hugged over the shoulders. And that's all.  
— And then what? - angrily said Mick, — press, once you need it...  
Sherlock clung to each other, and again stalled movement.  
Later pressed harder and put her head on his shoulder.  
Half an hour later, Sherlock took a chance to kiss Mick`s.  
In lip not turned out, only on the cheek.  
Another fifteen minutes later dared to Pat Mick`s on the head and pressed his head to himself.  
Mick did not resist, but retaliation did not show.  
So they sat for a long time, finally Sherlock quite timidly ran a hand across the face of Mick`s, in the neck... and down to the clavicles.  
Mick indefinitely chuckled.  
— Did I do something wrong? — a small voice said Sherlock, - it seemed to me that once upon a time I caressed you and kissed, and you're not behind...  
— You dreamt it, - said Mick.  
\- But I remember — stubborn Sherlock, - and I want to feel again the taste of your lips and see your eyes star cats.  
— Do not know — has come Mick, - I just remember that we're never reached.  
— Will you allow me to kiss you?  
\- No, - Mick was freed from the hands of Sherlock and stood up. Looked at the detective with narrowed eyes and gave out, - I'm not going on about you to go. I said no, means no. And to the point.  
— So I, - Sherlock sobbed, - I'll hopelessly love you, without the right to a hug?  
\- Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock, - sighed Mick, — what am I gonna do with you? Okay. Love how you like, but beyond not come. And I went home.

Sherlock walked Mick to the door. He was so lost and unhappy that Mick was full of pity.  
— Silly you, curly, — Mick smiled, — Oh, — hugged his friend, - well, cheer up, Sherl! All is not lost, - and gently, very gently kissed Sherlock on the lips. - good my, do not worry, - he ran out the door, leaving Sherlock to stand in the middle of the hallway dumbfounded with joy.


End file.
